The Spider in the Bath

I don't make my fear of spiders a secret. I am definitely not one of their biggest fans. I feel a little bit guilty about this because they have very bad press and they are good guys really - they eat flies and wasps, which is very welcome indeed, and they also make amazing webs that look especially stunning in morning dew. However, the logical part of my brain just can't win. Each time I confront a spider my phobia is victorious.

The problem has grown slightly worse since we moved house. As we have a tiny kitchen our washing machine lives in a little outhouse at the end of garden which presumably is where the toilet was back when these houses were built in the 19th Century. We lovingly call it the privy. It is with great relief that there is no longer a toilet there and that many decades ago someone converted one of the bedrooms into the bathroom.

However, going to put the laundry on is something of a hazard. For spiders rather love lurking in the privy, and occasionally building vast webs across the old wooden door. Thanks spiders, thanks a lot. Yes, I appreciate the beauty. No, I do not appreciate you blocking my path when I need to clean our clothes!

If there are spiders present, I plaintively squeal to my husband to rescue me and put the laundry on instead. If he isn't around then I have to deal with it. I may sometimes use a twig or similar weapon to persuade the spider to run from the vicinity. Other times I, rather pathetically, have to squirm and hunch into as small a size as my body will let me go so as to not touch the door or walls but be able to reach the washing machine door, lob the clothes inside, and then programme in the settings. I then run for the house, shaking myself just in case any mischievous arachnid chose to land on me at some point in this ridiculous process.

We've had a few spiders inside the house, but nothing too intimidating. That was until the other morning when a massive house spider lay in wait in the corner of our bedroom, positioned just above the sink. I decided to carry on getting ready for work, giving the spider several chances to move and hide so I could pretend it wasn't there. But it just sat there, waiting for me. In the end I had to sneak up to the fireplace, that juts out just beside the sink, press myself against it, and deftly slip my arm around the edge to reach across for the toothbrush and toothpaste, eyes on the spider the whole time, hoping that it wouldn't leap at me and attack! I then hurried off to the bathroom and cleaned my teeth in there instead.

Now the spider has gone. I don't know where. Normally this would bother me. I could never sleep in the same room as a spider before. Yet, no longer being able to see this spider, I am not particularly worried. Is this a sign that my phobia is improving? Or is the fact that I behave like such a freak in their presence mean that there is no hope for me?

It all puts me in mind of the brilliant little song, The Spider in the Bath*, by the comic duo Flanders & Swann. A song my parents introduced to me and that I relate to wholeheartedly. I especially like this verse:

What a frightful looking beast

Half an inch across at least

It would frighten even Superman or Garth!

There's contempt it can't disguise

In the little beady eyes

Of the spider sitting glowering in the bath!

Thankfully I've not been driven to my demise by any spider, but clearly I have been driven to some very silly behaviour.

*Do not watch this video if you are afraid of spiders! It's the only one I could find - sorry! But it is worth opening in another tab and listening to.

A Wet & Wild Birthday

For my birthday this year my husband took me to the Wildlife & Wetlands Trust site in Arundel.

We travelled by train as when you have lots of time it is the least stressful option. The wetlands is a 15-20 minute walk from the station. Raindrops began to pitter patter down on us as we walked down the long tree-lined path, our shoes crunching the many golden leaves that already littered the ground. We were ravenous by the time we reached the wetlands so the first thing we did was order lunch. The cafe looks out over Swan Lake and watched as the ducks and swans swam happily around in the downpour.

What's a little rain to a duck?

Our first stop after food was to be the boat safari but the rain was proving to be unrelenting so we instead we sought shelter by the Icelandic Lake, watching ducks from Iceland - common scoters, harlequins and long tails. The ducks are from Lake Myvatn and are now an endangered species due to dredging of the lake floor for minerals, which has a had a negative effect on the lake's ecosystems. The scoters were really cool. They make a funny cooing noise before soaring through the water.

A common scoter in action!

We spent many minutes watching the ducks before heading back towards the small jetty as the rain had finally stopped. We joined seven others on a small boat along with a guide. The boats have silent motors so as not to disturb the wildlife and thus increase the chances of seeing something up close. After several minutes we spotted a water vole hurrying across the bank and then vanishing into the rushes. Further on we saw one chomping on a reed stalk. Apparently when they are eating they think you can't see them, which allows you to get fairly close as long as you are still and quiet. Sorry, I just have to say that water voles are so cute!

Ratty from Wind in the Willows enjoying lunch :)

After the boat safari we just meandered around the wetlands, stopping by various bird hides in the hope of spotting something special, and otherwise enjoying the wide variety of ducks, swans and geese from around the world. We did spot a reed warbler - such a loud little chirrup for something so diminutive! We also saw a heron being chased by some vicious herring gulls. It looked like the heron maybe had a fish in its beak, and whilst capable of getting their own fish, herring gulls prefer to steal and scavenge, and so we watched them literally 'snapping at the heels' of the poor heron as we were looking out across the Reed Bed (a Site of Special Scientific Interest). The heron eventually disappeared, the gulls swooped after it and then they flew up into the air and back in the direction they had come, demonstrably fish-less. I later learned that herons can land in trees which gulls can't, so presumably the heron managed to land somewhere in the woods and enjoy his fish in peace.

After that drama we checked out some more rare ducks from around the world before meandering through the Reed Bed keeping our eyes pealled for kingfishers. Sadly we didn't see any - their iridescent blue feathers reflect the sun making them easiest to spot on bright days, but by now the sky had blackened considerably and before long the heavens opened and the rain really really poured this time, steady and torrential, combined with strong, chilly gusts. Oh autumn...

The Reed Bed SSSI

Thankfully we soon made it back to the cafe in time for tea and cake, and then delayed our exit by visiting the gift shop. The rain had stopped and so we began our wander back to the station, enjoying the fresh autumn air for at least a few yards. But of course this is Britain and so the rain returned with an even great vengeance. And so we arrived at Arundel Station like drowned rats (or water voles, but I don't think they mind the rain...), mud-splattered, dripping and shivering. Thankfully, at Barnham Station where we had to change trains, we were able to purchase a large steaming cup of tea.

And on the way home we saw a huge rainbow, arched high above the rail track. A beautiful addition to a lovely day and a welcome sight after being drenched to the bone.

The photo doesn't do it justice, it was stunning.

We had just enough time once we were back home to dry and change before heading to our favourite Italian restaurant for an absolutely delicious three-course meal.

A day of adventure with my favourite person, admiring the beauty of God, and indulging in fantastic food. My kind of birthday :)

Photos my own.

Sharing the Chocolate Love

It is a truth universally acknowledged that cake does not last long in an office. At least, it doesn't in my office. It is around for an even shorter length of time if it is of the chocolate variety, as I discovered today.

I had to adhere to that annoying tradition in the workplace - if it is your birthday you have to treat everyone else to cake. This is not a new tradition to me, I've been part of it since I was 2. At playgroup, at milk and biscuit time, if it was your birthday you provided cake for everyone instead of biscuits. The cakes I always had were amazing. They were made by a friend of my mum's, vividly coloured, full of sugar and wonder. My favourite, which I can still remember the smell of, was a cake in the shape of Love-a-lot Bear from Care Bears for my 3rd birthday. Amazing.

Anyway, now I'm an adult the onus is on me myself and not my mum or anyone else to provide cake for my colleagues. This requires considerable effort. Either you spend hours scouring supermarket shelves for the best offers on Mr Kipling's and then still cough up half a month's salary to pay for them, or you slave away in the kitchen covered in flour attempting to 'out-do' other colleagues who must secretly (surely) be related to Nigella Lawson or Jamie Oliver or some other cooking/baking genius. So this year I decided to do what I felt like. I love chocolate and I know what I can make with it, and that's what my colleagues would get, like it or not!

I made my signature, easy-peasy but very delicious, chocolate flapjacks and chocolate cornflake cakes. It's obviously the chocolate that makes them taste so good as they require very little skill to make! I also made some vanilla cupcakes which I then covered with choc fudge icing (licking the saucepan after making that was immensely satisfying). I then had to supplement these with some chocolatey bite-sized snacks from Waitrose as I work with many gannets people who enjoy cake and I didn't have enough time, butter or eggs to make anymore.

To my, admittedly somewhat naive, surprise all of these delights had vanished by lunchtime. I was pleased because they obviously taste all right but quite a few people missed out which means I will have to double my efforts for my last day when more cake shall be required (it's one of those unwritten parts of the contract, or maybe it's somewhere in the font 4 small print *shrug*).

Alas! it seems I am not the only chocoholic in that place. What a relief I'm leaving...

September

September has historically been my favourite month. This is mostly because it is my birthday month, and when I was a child that was obviously of great importance. I also used to love school (primary that is), and relished the return to it after summer. That is of course why so many people despise September, as well as more rain and the coming chill of winter being felt in the air. Even so, September is so often full of bright days, the sky a beautiful blue, the changing colours of the leaves on the trees bringing a vibrancy that cheers as the summer slips away.

As a self-confessed sufferer of SAD I should not relish the signs of the coming winter, but I am one drawn to my own melancholy, and the deep cold of January is still some way off. Autumn can be the start of something new as much as spring can. At church the youth work starts the new term soon with our new youth minister in place, my husband returns to university for his MSc one day a week, and I handed in my notice on Thursday so that I will be leaving my job at the end of the month... There are new starts this September, new adventures beginning, and the month has begun with the sun shining, and the skies a stunning blue.

This September the excitement of my childhood has returned to me, and I want to treasure that, if just for a little while.

A relaxing autumn afternoon at Standen near East Grinstead, September 2010

Photo my own.